A Break in Routine
by Loopstagirl
Summary: They put themselves in danger time and time again. That doesn't mean they can always walk away from it again though.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners._

 _Happy birthday, Darkflame! Hope you have an amazing day and I believe you asked for something a while ago? Hope you enjoy it!_

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Scott looked around, his gaze instinctively seeking the next victim to reassure. There was no one there. Double-checking, the Field Commander of International Rescue breathed a sigh of relief and loosened the strap on his helmet. He desperately needed fresh air, but knew the area was not secure. He couldn't risk removing any of his protective gear just yet. After ensuring he was indeed alone, Scott looked up at the mountain towering above him and glared at it as he touched his communicator.

"We're done up here, Thunderbird Two," he said. Twisting, he instead looked down the mountain and could see the Excavator coming to a stop. Virgil had been up and down the mountain more times than Scott had counted today, evacuating a number of small villages from their precarious positions on the mountainside. When Alan had reported the landslide, the 'birds had launched before they were requested. There was only so much the emergency services could do and Scott was glad they hadn't wasted any time. They had been hard at work all day, numerous rockslides forcing them to take extreme measures to ensure everyone was safe.

But now it was over and they had done it. As Virgil's confirmation came floating back through the comms – promising to come and pick Scott up as quickly as he could – Scott finally allowed himself to smile. Now he knew the job was over, he felt his whole body aching and his throat hurting from shouting instructions for hours. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't had to repeat himself, but panicked civilians didn't make his job any easier. Seeing a large boulder – one that had no doubt come down with the last wave – Scott crossed over to it and perched on the top before lifting his wrist.

"Thunderbird One to Base."

" _Go ahead, Scotty."_

"John?" The voice was not the one Scott had been expecting. "What are you doing? Where's Dad?"

" _Pleading with Kyrano to give him another coffee."_

"How many?"

" _At least five. Are you done yet? I need you here for damage control."_

Scott smiled at the light-heartedness to John's voice. His brother knew Scott wouldn't have called in unless there was a problem or the rescue was almost complete. John spent most of his time listening to rescues rather participating; he heard things that weren't said.

"Just waiting for Virgil to pick me up." Scott glanced at what remained of the small track that had once led from the village to the base of the mountain. He winced. The path now couldn't be distinguished from the rest of the shale covering the mountain. Making his own way down wasn't an option; if he slipped and broke his neck, Virgil would never let him hear the end of it.

" _How bad is it?"_

"Seen worse." Scott rolled his neck as he spoke. He was looking forward to getting home – a nice hot shower would soothe his aching muscles. John didn't say anything and Scott knew his brother didn't want to intrude on whatever Scott was thinking about. Scott stared at the rocks surrounding him. He was hardly a stranger to mountaineering. He had climbed the dormant volcano on the island a handful of times at least – after checking with Brains there was definitely no activity. He could vividly remember Gordon insisting it was actually a sleeping dragon when they had first moved to the island. He smiled at the memory.

Feeling the rock he was sitting on trembling slightly, Scott linked his fingers and stretched his arms above his head.

"Gotta go, John. Virg has just made record time getting back up here."

There was a second of silence but it told Scott so much. When John spoke, his voice was hesitant.

" _I'm listening in on Virgil's communications. Scott, he's still dealing with the locals."_

The rock was trembling more violently now and Scott turned to look back at the mountain. All seemed still. But then a few small rocks suddenly slipped on their own accord, rolling down the mountain and gathering speed as they did so. Scott watched them, frozen, before he snapped into motion.

"Tell Virgil to clear the area and lock down the Excavator," Scott ordered. His tone was not one of a brother, but of a commander who expected his orders to be followed. He stood up, vaguely aware of John passing on his instructions as Scott kept the communications open. More stones were moving now and Scott knew it would only get worse when the rocks from further up reached him. The fresh slide was just starting but it still didn't give Scott enough time to do anything useful.

" _What about you?"_ There was worry lining John's voice and Scott forced himself to take a breath before he answered.

"I'll do what I always do, Johnny." There was false cheer in his voice and he knew his brother would hear the tension. "I'll improvise."

Scott didn't cut the line, knowing communication would be paramount if things got worse. But he didn't say anything as he carefully edged along from where he had been sitting. There had to be somewhere he could shelter. But looking at the feebly constructed buildings made him grit his teeth. There was a reason why they had needed to evacuate every village – there _was_ no shelter, nowhere that was safe from an avalanche.

The ground under his feet was moving and Scott had never concentrated so hard on putting one foot in front of the other, checking for lose stones before shifting his weight. As he made to take another step, another rock – larger this time – skidded past him and Scott nearly overbalanced as he tried to shift his weight to avoid the impact. He managed it, but then was forced to do it again as more rocks came thundering down. He could hear the movement now and knew the danger was only just beginning. He had to find some sort of shelter, somewhere that would be safe.

In the end, he didn't have much choice. He had only passed a few of the feebly constructed houses when he realised that half the mountain seemed to be trying to come down. Wondering how there were still lose boulders to move considering the damage he had already seen that day, Scott dove into the closest house. He wedged himself against the wall, trying to make sure he was as stable as could be. There was nothing else for it other than to wait out the avalanche and hope Virgil made it up before the next one.

Scott had always enjoyed listening to the rain. But hearing rocks smacking against the side of the house did not have the same soothing effect. He crouched, hands resting on his legs with his fingers clenched into fists. His knuckles were white, his gaze locked on the wall. The bricks were already beginning to bow under the pressure of the onslaught and Scott wasn't sure how much more they could stand. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when another hit caused a brick to shift.

Scott jumped up. He wasn't safe here. But he hadn't taken a single step towards rectifying his position when a _thud_ made the whole building shake. Scott felt as if he was watching in slow-motion as the wall opposite him suddenly exploded inward. Scott automatically threw his arms up to protect his head as he was showered in falling debris. One brick made a direct hit with his shoulder and the impact made him drop to one knee.

" _Scott? Scott, are you okay? What's happening?"_

Scott didn't answer, looking up in horror. He had thought half the mountain was coming down on him. Considering the size of the rocks he could see through pouring into what had been the village, he knew he couldn't be far wrong. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stand, his hand feeling the back of his shoulder. His fingers came away spotted with blood and Scott was relieved it wasn't worse.

He moved quickly, but the ground beneath his feet was too treacherous. Three out of the four walls of the house had been destroyed. As his ankle turned over on a lose stone, Scott gritted his teeth. He needed to find somewhere more sheltered than this, but he had no idea where. Scrambling out of the house, he ducked behind the still-standing wall, checking the strap on his helmet again. Thinking of trying to move sideways and so out of the path of the rocks, Scott steeled himself to make a dash for it.

But he was sent pitching to the ground as a rock struck the wall from the other side with such force it once again over-balanced Scott. He had no chance of moving out of the way as the final wall gave way, the sliding ground refusing to support it. Scott yelled something incoherent as he felt himself move without his say-so but he never heard John's answer. Blinding pain shot from his leg and even as Scott made to clutch at it, a stone smacked into his helmet so hard that Scott saw stars before the pain overwhelmed him and he lost consciousness.

TBTB

"I don't care what he ordered, I'm going back up there." Virgil snapped into his watch as he slammed the Excavator into reverse and spun the hulk of a machine into a three point turn that even Alan wouldn't be able to carry off. He disconnected before John could tell him not to be stupid, but Virgil glared at the sliding mountainside. His brother was still up there with no shelter and Virgil was not just going to sit here. Their job was rescuing people, damnit. If he couldn't rescue his own brother, what was the point?

Shoving the controls in the right direction with far more force than necessary, Virgil started taking on the mountain to get back to Scott. His going was slow but he knew if he pushed the machine too hard and the engine overheated, then he would be further away from Scott than he was now.

" _Virgil?"_

"What?"

" _I can't get an answer from him."_

Virgil stared desperately out in front of him and willed the machine to move faster.

"Keep trying," he said tersely. He knew there was no point taking it out on John when his brother was no doubt feeling as helpless as he was. Virgil didn't know if it was just wishful thinking, but the ground seemed to be stabilising again as he moved up the mountain and the Excavator picked up more speed, crushing smaller stones into dust as it moved.

Virgil almost drove past the village. It was only a small part of a wall that caught his attention and he slammed on the brakes. Lifting the hatch, he stared out in horror.

"Oh my god," he muttered. He didn't care if John heard him or not. The area had been flattened. If they hadn't got to the villagers in time, there would have been major casualties. Knowing they had got them to safety did nothing to comfort Virgil though. There had still been someone up here, after all.

"Scott!" He yelled into the dust. He cut the engine and climbed out. He couldn't continue in the machine without knowing where his brother was. "Scott, where are you?"

Silence met his shout. The rocks had stopped falling and Virgil didn't bother with his helmet as he scrambled through the dust and debris. He climbed up the wall, using the height to try and find his brother. To start with, Virgil could see nothing. Then he forced himself to calm down. Scott was up here somewhere; panicking wouldn't help. He scanned the area again, his eyes drifting over fallen walls and stones. Finally, a flash of colour amongst the grey caught his eye and he clambered over and around obstacles before he reached it.

"Scott!"

Virgil wasn't sure if he dropped to his knees or fell over, but he landed next to Scott. For a split-second, he could only stare. Scott was almost buried; stones and dirt covered the majority of his body. Then Virgil snapped himself out of it and hastily pushed at the small rocks sitting on Scott's chest. His relief at seeing his brother breathing was short lived when he realise the man was unconscious. Quickly checking around his neck for any sign of injury, Virgil carefully eased Scott's helmet off, wincing at the dent in it. But his probing fingers felt no lump on his brother's head and he knew the helmet had done its job. Once he had reassured himself that Scott had a pulse – steady if a little weak – Virgil rested back on his haunches as he surveyed the damage. For the most part, Scott had been lucky. There were a few shallow cuts and his brother was going to be a walking bruise, but he had escaped any major damage.

But then Virgil shifted his gaze further down and realised he was wrong. Scott wasn't going to be a walking bruise. He wasn't going to be walking anywhere. Virgil had to press the back of his gloved hand against his mouth and breathe through his nose as he tried not to be sick at the angle of Scott's leg. He was suddenly glad his brother was unconscious.

"John?" As his hand lifted so his watch was clear, Virgil could see if was shaking. "I've found him. He's alive. But he is hurt."

" _How bad?"_

Virgil had no idea John was echoing Scott's earlier words. But there was nothing light-hearted about this situation. He rested a hand very lightly on his brother's leg. There was a huge boulder right by Scott's twisted foot and Virgil assumed that was the culprit.

"He has broken his leg at the very least." Virgil was impressed about how steady his voice was but John's silence revealed the gravity of the situation. It was so rare that any of them came back with anything more than bumps and bruises – a concussion at the worst – that it was taking time to process that Scott had actually been hurt. When John did speak, his voice was steady and professional.

" _Do you need help?"_

"No. I've got a med-kit with me." Hating that he had to leave Scott but knowing he had no choice, Virgil stood. He looked down at his brother for a long moment.

"Stay there," he muttered. Then he scrambled his way back to the Excavator and pulled out everything he needed. The machine could take so few people that he had come fully stocked in case of more landslides between runs getting people off the mountain. He even had a hover stretcher folded away and as he unfolded it and activated it, Virgil was grateful over how paranoid he had been.

Using one hand to guide the stretcher and carrying his supplies with the other, Virgil made it back to his brother in record time considering the terrain. Examining him again revealed Virgil had been right – it was only Scott's leg and his brother's state of consciousness that gave him cause for concern. But considering the former was probably responsible for the latter, Virgil forced himself to ignore it for now. He had checked for head wounds and Scott was in no immediate danger from anything Virgil could detect.

Reaching into his pack, Virgil cleaned the cut on the back of Scott's shoulder, awkwardly supporting his brother's upper body while he did so. He knew it wasn't important in the long run. But he wasn't ready to tackle Scott's leg yet. But when that was done, he knew he had no choice. He pulled out a splint, wincing at how insufficient it seemed. Glancing at Scott's still face, he checked his brother's eyes were closed before setting to work. He had done this so many times on rescues that Virgil's hands moved confidently, setting the splint around his brother's leg while trying not to move it as much as he could. Once that was done, he yanked the stretched down to hover at ground level.

By the time he had navigated Scott onto it, he was panting. His brother wasn't the lightest of men and trying to move him while not changing the position of his leg until they could set it properly had been a challenge and a half. But Virgil had done things like this before and he was satisfied he had done the best he could. Packing up his things and returning the stretcher to waist height, Virgil swore when he saw Scott's eyes flickering. As quick as he could, he drew out a shot of morphine and already had the needle in his brother's arm by the time Scott looked at him.

"V'g?"

"Welcome back, Scott." Virgil said softly. The pain hit his brother seconds later and his whole body went rigid. Virgil quickly put one hand on Scott's good shoulder and the other on his chest.

"Lie back, Scott," he instructed. "Just lie back. Your leg is broken but I've set it the best I can. I've given you something for the pain, it will kick in within a few moments."

Scott gazed at him and Virgil wondered how lucid his brother was. But now he was awake, Virgil didn't want him losing consciousness again. He gently squeezed his brother's shoulder.

"Stay with me here, Scotty," he murmured. Flicking a switch on the stretcher, Virgil started what was to be a slow walk back to the Excavator, trying to keep Scott talking as he did so. The morphine took effective and Virgil resulted in slapping his brother lightly to wake him up now the pain wasn't keeping Scott alert as effectively.

"You've got to stay awake," Virgil told him. "I'm going to get you home, I promise. Just stay with me here."

Virgil knew getting both 'birds back to base was going to cause issues. He couldn't focus on that now. He kept all his attention on Scott as he cajoled him into staying awake. Virgil knew it was going to feel like a slow journey home.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the lovely reviews and reactions to the first chapter, I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Hope you like what is coming next._

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Virgil had spent the entire day driving up and down the mountain, transporting terrified victims to safety. This final journey was the longest. Scott managed to stay awake, but he was quiet. Whenever Virgil twisted to check on him, Scott was biting his lip as he struggled to control the pain. Virgil wanted to tell him to let go and not hold back how he was feeling, but he knew Scott wouldn't. While there was a younger brother present – even if it was Virgil – Scott would do his utmost to stay quiet. It was what he had always done.

Finally though, Virgil was rumbling to a stop for the last time. He quickly unclipped his harness, clambering back through the Excavator until he reached Scott. He put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder.

"The worst bit is done," he said softly. Giving it a squeeze, he flicked the controls on the stretcher until it was vibrating softly, hovering on its own accord. Slinging his supplies over his own shoulder, Virgil guided it out with one hand, transferring his brother from one machine into another. He took Scott straight through to the sickbay on Thunderbird Two, lining the stretcher up with its small docking bay and securing it. It was easier than having to move Scott across to another bed. Virgil lent over, forcing Scott to look at him.

"Sorry, big brother," he murmured. "But you know the drill. Follow the finger."

Plucking his penlight out from the hold above, Virgil proceeded to check his brother the best he could. Scott was unfocused with pain, but Virgil was soon satisfied that apart from his leg, Scott had either been very lucky or the uniform had done what it was supposed to and protected his brother from harm. When Virgil finally drew away, Scott reached out and grabbed his wrist. The pain from his leg had turned his brother grey and Virgil knew the pain relief he had given him was only just taking the edge off.

"I can't stay here," Scott gasped. He was attempting to sit up, sweat beading his brow as he held his upper body upright. "I need to…One…"

"You're going nowhere, Scott," Virgil said firmly. He pushed his brother down again and walked towards the door. It swished open before him and he left the sickbay. For once, he didn't have to concern himself with Scott trying to escape. His brother could barely sit up, let alone make it down off the stretcher on his own.

Virgil tried not to think about the problem at hand until he had safely stored the Excavator away and liaised with the locals to make sure the situation was under control. They confirmed they could take it from here – everyone was away from treacherous ground, they now just had to relocate the people for the time being. But once that was done, Virgil sat in the cockpit of Thunderbird Two, patching through to the island. As soon as the screen activated, both his father and John were staring at him anxiously.

"How's Scott?"

"What happened to your brother?"

Virgil held up a hand to stem their questions. He then ran it tiredly over his face. "Scott's fine. He's broken his leg but until I get home and can x-ray it, I have no idea how badly. Other than that, bumps and bruises."

"How are you holding up, Virgil?" His father's voice was soft and concerned. Virgil smiled tiredly.

"I'm fine. I just need to get him home. Talking of which… What should I do about One?"

"I've already been discussing that with your brothers. John and Gordon will prepare to leave as soon as you take off. They'll bring Two back out – John will fly Two home and Gordon will take One."

"Scott's going to love that," Virgil muttered drily.

"Scott doesn't have a choice. Besides, we've always said you should gain more experience in the other crafts. This gives both John and Gordon that chance. As long as One is locked down and secure for a few hours, we can get her back home."

"F.A.B." Virgil disconnected with a smile. His hands glided over the console on their own accord as he started pre-flight checks. They might all be fiercely possessive over their own 'birds, but there was always a note of pride in his father's voice when he spoke of them. He was just as bad as his sons, if not worse.

As the engines rumbled to life, Virgil checked the screen that showed him a visual of the sickbay. Scott had either passed out again or fallen asleep. Virgil suspected the latter. It had been a long and draining day anyway. Once he had Scott settled at home, the only thing Virgil was planning to do was fall into his bed for a long sleep himself.

Knowing Scott was as well as could be expected and the area was secure, Virgil wasted no more time lifting his ship into the air and aiming her for home. Normally once he had reached the correct altitude, he would let the auto-pilot take over so he could relax from the rescue. But today he needed to keep his mind occupied or he feared images of how he had found Scott would haunt his mind. His brother had been lucky, extremely so. Virgil wondered if Scott realised how lucky. Then he shuddered and forced himself to focus on flying. The controls in his grip stopped his hand from shaking and the comforting ease with which he could fly his 'bird gradually calmed his thudding heart.

It only took him an hour to get home. Virgil knew he had pushed the engines more than he necessarily would have done, but it was worth it when the island came into view. He was cleared for landing and skilfully brought the machine down to her resting place. He let the system shut itself down as he climbed from his seat and swiftly made his way back through to the sickbay.

Scott was still asleep, but Virgil activating the stretcher was enough to rouse him. He tried to sit up, groggy and uncoordinated. But Virgil put a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder and eased him back down.

"We're home, Scotty," he murmured. Scott fell back but didn't say anything as Virgil steered him from Thunderbird Two. True to his father's word, both John and Gordon were waiting for them, suited up and ready to go. Gordon clapped Scott on the shoulder when they emerged before bounding into Two. Virgil watched him go and tried to ignore his concern. He knew Gordon was more than qualified to fly his 'bird, he just didn't like to admit it.

"How are you doing, Scott?" John asked quietly. He paused, looking down at their big brother. Scott managed a weak smile.

"I'm fine." Scott jerked his head towards Two. "You better hurry up before he goes without you."

Sure enough, the engines were already rumbling to life. John nodded at his brothers before he too disappeared. Virgil knew Scott wasn't worried about Gordon going without John, but about Thunderbird One being out there without proper security. Virgil smiled softly at the thought and continued to guide the stretcher out of the bays. Whatever Scott was thinking, they couldn't launch until the pair of them were safely out of the way.

Their father was there as soon as Virgil reached the house. He rested a hand against the back of Virgil's neck, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Well done." There was only sincerity in his voice and Virgil knew he was talking about the rescue as a whole as well as getting Scott home. But then his hands were being pulled away from the stretcher. "Go and get cleaned up. Brains already has the x-ray machine ready for Scott. We'll know more by the time you get back down."

Virgil opened his mouth to argue, but no words escaped him. His heart told him he should stay with Scott. He had to make sure his brother was okay, had to check there was nothing he had missed at the rescue. But his head told him to get cleaned up. He would only be stuck waiting while Brains x-rayed his brother's leg and deep down, Virgil knew that apart from the broken bone, Scott was fine. Virgil hesitated, not being sure what to do.

"Go." Scott twisted his head to look up at his brother. As he had done with John, he offered Virgil a smile. "I'm fine. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Virgil chewed his lip for a moment before nodding. He stepped back and his father took his place, guiding the stretcher through the room and towards the infirmary. Virgil watched until he couldn't see them. Then he snapped into action, taking the stairs two at a time and diving into the shower almost before he had stripped his uniform off.

He might have agreed to go, but that didn't mean he wasn't planning on having the quickest shower he could.

TBTB

Scott sat back against the mound of pillows supporting him. There were others under his leg, helping to elevate the limb. Brains had already had the x-ray machine in position when his father had helped him in and Scott barely had time to register they had reached the infirmary before his leg was being examined. Brains hadn't spoken as he had got everything in position, but Scott knew that was his way of dealing with what was happening.

Now it was just a matter of waiting while Brains examined the results and decided on the best way of securing his leg. Scott knew he had broken it. It hurt too much for it to be anything else. He had suffered scrapes and bruises on rescues from day one. He knew this wasn't just another bruise. The shot Virgil had given him at the rescue zone had helped Scott to think through the pain, but it was beginning to wear off. Unable to stop himself, Scott's hand fisted in the sheet as he tried to control it.

"Hey."

Looking up, Scott saw Virgil sidling in. His brother's hair was damp from the shower and Scott wondered how fast Virgil had cleaned up. He tried to smile, knowing it was his fault that Virgil was looking so exhausted. But it came out as more of a grimace and Virgil lifted an eyebrow.

"You could have just said," he scolded. He walked across the room and Scott offered no protest for once as Virgil slid another needle into his arm a few moments later. As the relief hit him, Scott sagged against the pillows even more, a soft groan escaping his lips. Virgil perched on the chair beside him.

"How-,"

"Virg-,"

Virgil laughed as they both spoke at the same time. Scott grinned.

"You first," he said. Virgil combed his fingers through his damp hair.

"How are you feeling?" Scott had known that was what his brother was going to say. He just about refrained from rolling his eyes. He was lying here with a broken leg and his brother wanted to know how he was feeling?

"Fine," he said. Virgil looked as if he didn't believe him but Scott held his gaze. "Virg, I'm fine. Sure, a bit sore but I guess that is what happens when half a mountain falls on you. Honestly, Virgil. I'm okay."

Scott didn't know what else Virgil expected him to say. His leg hurt; he didn't deny it. But when he thought about what could have happened out there, Scott knew he was lucky to even be having this conversation. Virgil still looked disbelieving but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he nodded and glanced away, clearing his throat.

"What were you going to say?"

Scott waited until his brother looked back at him. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For disobeying my orders and coming back up even when everything else was coming down."

This time, Virgil's smile was real. He sat back in his chair, his relaxed posture saying more than words ever could.

"If you really thought I was just going to sit there and wait, then you're an idiot."

"That's what I get for trying to keep you safe? Charming." Scott grinned as Virgil rolled his eyes. But before either of them could say anything else, Brains and their father walked back into the room. Scott couldn't stop himself from tensing. The x-rays in Brains' hand wouldn't only say how much damage had been done, but how long the field commander could expect to be sitting out from rescues. Scott might have told both himself and Virgil that he was fine, but he couldn't deny he was nervous. His father came and sat on the other side of him, a comforting presence that helped Scott reign in his nerves.

"Okay, Brains," he said. Scott forced himself to sit up a little straighter. "What's the verdict?"

"T-there's a clean b-b-break across your t-tibia," Brains said. Scott sucked in a sharp breath. "But there s-shouldn't be any c-complications healing."

"How long?" Scott heard himself say. There was a fuzzy noise in his head. He had been secretly hoping it was just a fracture. A few days rest and he would be able to at least move around without a problem. Brains looked at him steadily.

"At least s-six weeks," he stuttered.

Scott was glad for the pillows behind him. Six weeks. Six weeks of barely being able to move. He wouldn't be able to train, wouldn't be able to run… He wouldn't be able to go on rescues.

"No." Scott dug his hands into the bed and forced himself upright. "That's too long. There must be something that you can do, Brains!"

"Scott, stop," his father said gently. "You just have to let nature take its course. There are some things that even Brains can't fix."

"I am not sitting here for six weeks!"

"You have to." Scott was taken aback by the snap in Virgil's voice. His little brother glared at him. "Be grateful it's six weeks and not six months. You were unconscious when I found you, Scott. You could have been crushed before I got there. You could have brain damage, or not wake up or even…"

"Hey," Scott interrupted. He reached over the best he could, but couldn't reach Virgil. "Virg. Virgil, look at me."

His brother did so, with great reluctance. Scott held his gaze for a long moment before he spoke again.

"I'm alive, Virgil. Probably thanks to you. You can't think like that, okay? Yes, it could have happened. But we both know there was no other way to run that rescue. We were lucky that was the only rockslide we were caught in considering how long we were on that mountain for. At least it was only me."

Scott knew Virgil would understand what he wasn't saying. If the slide had come any earlier, there would have been multiple victims. Victims that weren't wearing the same protective gear that Scott had been. There would have been nothing that they could have done apart from try and help them once the slide had stopped. One broken leg seemed a reasonable price to pay for an otherwise successful rescue.

"I guess," Virgil muttered. He shifted in his seat before fixing Scott with a stern look. "So that means you have to shut up and not moan about it being six weeks."

Feeling like he had been trapped in his own reassurances, Scott slumped but glumly nodded. He knew he had no choice. It wasn't like someone could wave a wand and make it better again.

"I'll p-prepare a c-cast," Brains said. He swiftly left, clearly uncomfortable with the tension between the brothers. No sooner had he left when Gordon walked in.

"How was the flight?" Scott asked anxiously. "You didn't push the engines, did you? Was there any problem with the take-off?"

"Easy," Gordon laughed. He held up his hands in surrender before loosening his uniform. He had clearly only just got back and had come straight to the infirmary to find out what was happening with his older siblings. Scott watched him closely as Gordon pulled around a chair and spun it until he could sit on it backwards.

"There might have been a slight problem…" he began sheepishly and Scott lurched, worry coursing through him. He would have left the bed if he could. His father's hand landed on his shoulder, clearly worried that Scott would try and get up.

"Gordon, what have you done?" Scott growled. He hadn't been properly lucid when he had seen his brothers down in the silos. He hadn't connected that for both of them to be going out, it meant one of them was flying One home. Now, however, he wished he had done something to stop them. Gordon's sheepish look morphed into laughter.

"Oh the look on your face, Scotty. Nothing. She's perfectly fine. I was good, honest."

"Gordon…"

"I didn't do anything," Gordon repeated. He crossed his arms on the top of the chair and rested his chin on them. "So…how's the invalid?"

"Six weeks," Scott muttered darkly. "Six weeks of jokes like that."

"Yep," Gordon said cheerfully. "I had to put up with longer so you can deal with that. Seriously, Scott… you okay?"

Recognising that Gordon truly needed to know if his big brother was alright or not, Scott met Gordon's eyes and held the gaze.

"Yeah, squirt," he said with a small smile. "I'm fine. Broken leg but Virgil was just in the middle of telling me how lucky I actually was when you came in, so guess I can't complain."

Virgil looked smug as Scott glanced at him. Scott wondered if Virgil had been winding him up just to get him to admit it could have been worse, meaning Scott could no longer whine about it six weeks. But then Scott thought again. He had seen the look in Virgil's eyes. It could have been a lot worse and both of them knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for the great reviews once again. They really mean a lot to me! Hope you like this next chapter!_

* * *

John couldn't remember the last time he had been given the chance to fly Thunderbird Two. It wasn't that he wasn't capable – far from it. They had all been through the same training and John made sure he kept up to date with the simulations every time he was down from Five. There was no telling when a situation like this might arise and he would need to take the wheel – so to speak. But Virgil was too protective of his 'bird – even Gordon wasn't allowed to fly and he was in Two almost as much as Virgil.

John enjoyed the flight home, but had no intention of telling Virgil how rusty his landing had been. Thunderbird Two was back in her hanger without a scratch on her; that was all that mattered. John trailed a hand over the green machine as he left, giving it a reassuring pat as if to thank it for not making him crash on the way home. Then he realised what he was doing and shook his head, bemused.

Heading upstairs, he deliberated between changing out of his uniform and going to check on his brother. Scott won out and John headed towards the infirmary. He didn't have to check if that was where the rest of the family were, he knew. Sure enough, the doors opened to reveal both Gordon and Virgil crowded around a bed, blocking Scott from his view. Gordon had obviously been home long enough to change but he twisted in his chair as John walked in.

"Look who finally has decided to join us."

John didn't answer, but rolled his eyes. He moved further into the room and realised Scott was asleep. The cast on his leg looked bright white in the light of the infirmary, a shocking colour against Scott's tanned skin. It was a stark reminder that not all rescues went according to plan.

"How is he?" John slid into an empty seat, convinced it had only just been vacated by his father. The fact the man wasn't in here answered John's question for him. Their father wouldn't leave any of them if there was even the possibility of anything dangerous.

"Apart from a broken leg and hating that it will take six weeks to heal, fine," Virgil said quietly. He was bent over Scott's leg but sat back to look at John. Although Virgil's eyes were assessing him closely, John saw the pen in his hand and had to smile. It was clear Virgil disliked the white of Scott's cast as well and was already rectifying that. John resisted the urge to look what his brother was drawing until Virgil had finished.

"So," Virgil waved his pen in John's direction. "How was she?"

"Handled like a dream," John lied, smiling as Virgil scowled. His brother still was not happy about someone else getting the chance to fly his 'bird without his permission. John rolled his eyes. "Thought you said Scott was going to be the one worked up over this, not you. He's fast asleep, you're glaring at me like I've grown horns. You can go and check her over yourself if you want?"

Virgil looked torn. He glanced between Scott and the door and John laughed, leaning back in the chair to make himself more comfortable. Eventually, Virgil's frown faded and he bent back over Scott's leg.

"I saw the mountain though," John continued. "You guys were lucky there weren't serious casualties today."

"I know," Virgil murmured. "We obviously got our timing right on this one."

"I should have been out there with you."

"Why?" Virgil looked up again. He must have seen the guilt John was trying to hide for he frowned. "It wouldn't have made any difference, John. Most of the time even Scott didn't have anything to do but stand around yelling orders."

"He was having the time of his life then," Gordon quipped. Although his words were light, John knew Gordon was thinking the same. They were always like this. When one of them was hurt, the others managed to convince themselves it would have been a whole different story if they had just been there. As if John could have stopped that final landslide with his mere presence. Virgil didn't answer Gordon, but shot him a scathing look. Gordon grinned in response but stood up, linking his fingers and stretching them over his head.

"I need a swim. I can't sit around here any longer while Scott sleeps the day away. Some of us have work to do."

He turned and left. If he was aware of his two conscious older brothers watching him, then Gordon didn't look around.

"He hates sitting in here," John murmured. Although he was still in his uniform, he had no intention of moving. He and Gordon might feel the guilt of not having been there. But he knew Virgil was having to deal with the fact that he _was_ there and there was still nothing he could do. While Scott was out of commission, it was up to John to make sure their little brother was alright. Scott would never forgive him otherwise.

Virgil nodded absentmindedly, tilting his head to one side in order to examine his artwork critically. John half-stood, leaning over so he could see what Virgil had done. He smiled. Thunderbird One was traced up the side of Scott's leg, the detail so precise John knew Virgil had every bolt and mechanism traced onto the cast. He whistled appreciatively as he sank back into his seat.

"Not my best," Virgil murmured. John didn't respond. Virgil was his own worst critic when it came to drawing and he couldn't imagine sketching on a cast was easy.

"Do you remember all those ones you did for Gordon?" John asked. "A new one every day. He would have been a walking doodle by the end of it if he could actually walk."

Virgil nodded with a smile. "I had to do something to cheer him up." He glanced down at Scott and sighed. John knew that was his opening.

"You got to him as quickly as you could."

"I should have been up there with him."

"Think about it logically, Virg," John said. "If you were up there, the chances are you wouldn't have been in the Excavator either. You both would have been caught in that slide, both would have been hurt and we would have had to come out in Three in order to bring you home."

Virgil stared at him impassively for a moment. Then his lips twitched. Finally, he gave in and smiled and John knew he was picturing a rocket turning up on the scene just because the others had no other way of getting there.

"He didn't answer, John," Virgil said softly, his eyes locked on Scott. "The whole area was devastated, I didn't know where he was and he didn't answer me."

"You said it yourself; he's fine." John reached across the bed and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "It's not him you need to worry about now anyway. It's yourself. Well, all of us to be honest."

"Why?"

"Scott's grounded for at least six weeks. He's barely going to be able to move. Do you really think we're going to be able to survive this?"

Virgil groaned, dropping his head into his hands theatrically. "He's going to be an utter nightmare."

John didn't respond. There was nothing for him to say, not considering he had been thinking exactly the same thing. Scott had an active life here on the island everyday as it was. He wasn't going to handle being forced to sit around and do nothing very well. That wasn't including rescues…

Knowing he had got through to his brother the best he could, John stood up, intending to get changed before returning to the infirmary. This was as docile as Scott was going to be for the next six weeks and John fully intended to make the most of it while he could. As he left, John crossed his fingers and wished it was a quiet few weeks in regards to people needing their help. He usually liked gaining some field time while he was down on Earth. But with Scott out of action, Virgil was right. Their brother was going to be a pain for the next six weeks.

TBTB

Scott shifted his weight to the palms of his hands and prepared to rise. He knew he was going to have to slide along the lounger to reach the crutches propped up at the end. Admittedly it hadn't been a great idea leaving them there, but it had made balancing to sit down easier with his hands free. He hadn't thought about getting up.

A few days had passed since he had woken up in the infirmary to find his leg in a cast and Virgil's drawing up the side. Brains had been swift when he had put the cast on, but the pain had been great and Scott had been exhausted when he was done. It had only taken a few moments for the next lot of pain relief to kick in and Scott had fallen asleep halfway through a conversation with his younger brothers. When he had woken up again, it was evening and said younger brothers had morphed into his father and John. Scott knew he had been asleep for a while simply because he was starving.

He had stayed in the infirmary for most of the next day. Not through any choice of his own, but because there hadn't really been anywhere else for him to go. His brothers were in the process of bringing most of his belongings downstairs so he could use the spare-room as a bedroom and a rare day of bad weather meant sitting outside wasn't an option. Scott could have shifted to the lounge, but no one had provided him with a way of moving and he was trapped.

That hadn't stopped him from groaning when Gordon had appeared with a wheelchair and a pair of crutches. Scott had grabbed the crutches before shoving at the chair and sending it spinning to the other side of the room. If his brother honestly thought he was going to get in that thing, then Gordon was in for a surprise. But the smirk on Gordon's face indicated he wasn't at all shocked by Scott's decision and he hadn't said anything as he had helped his brother adjust the height of the crutches. Scott had given him a brief smile of thanks and Gordon had gone to hold open the door so Scott could make his bid for freedom.

It horrified him how long it took to move from the infirmary to his bedroom. He was used to physical work – the constant rescues put his body through things most people never experienced in their lifetime, let alone daily – but the pressure on his hands and how much it hurt shocked him. By the time he had crashed down in his new room, Scott had been trembling. He had refused any more pain relief from Virgil and regretted it.

But Gordon quietly told him to put a pair of socks over the handles of the crutches and left Scott to pull himself together. Scott had done so, reminding himself that Gordon had gone through this being told he wouldn't regain the use of his legs. At least it was only six weeks for Scott.

When the weather had looked clearer the next day, Scott had forced himself outside and promptly fallen asleep on the sun-lounger. Now here he was, trying to work out how to shuffle along in order to reach the crutches to get back inside.

"You're really made this hard for yourself, haven't you?"

Scott looked up to find Virgil was watching him with an amused expression on his face.

"You could help a guy out and pass them over, you know."

"And miss watching you struggle? Don't think so. You got yourself into this mess, Scotty, I want to see how you get out of it."

Scott flipped his brother the finger and for a split-second, both of them braced themselves. Their grandmother had an uncanny ability to turn up whenever one of them swore. But there was no sharp reprimand and Scott breathed a sigh of relief knowing he had got away with it. He shuffled along a bit, stretching to reach the crutches. His fingers brushed against them but he couldn't get a grip. He moved a bit further and this time, he knocked the stick as he reached for it and it fell over in the opposite direction. Scott stared at it in dismay. He couldn't get up without them – his leg was still too sore to even try jolting it – and now he had no idea what to do.

Virgil rolled his eyes and walked forward. "You're hopeless," he said. But Scott could hear the fondness in his tone as he bent down and picked up the crutches, handing them over to Scott. "If I hadn't been here, what would you have done?"

"Called Gords."

"He's not at your beck and call."

"He seems to be," Scott mused. It had taken him by surprise, actually. Every time he had tried to figure out how to do something over the last couple of days, Gordon had appeared with a quiet word of advice and not a scathing comment to be heard. He thought his younger brother would have taken the chance to gloat over the fact he could do what he wanted without Scott breathing down his neck.

"He knows how it feels," Virgil said quietly. Scott shifted the crutches over, propping his leg awkwardly up on the next lounger. Virgil came to sit next to him.

"Guess he does know all the tricks," Scott admitted. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Virg…"

"You've already thanked me for coming to get your ass off that mountain, you don't have to keep doing it."

"I do though." Scott put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I know you. You won't be just accepting this. So go on, spill."

Virgil gave him an amused look and Scott knew he had been right. But Virgil sighed, resting his weight back on his palms and staring at the sky.

"Strangely enough, I'm fine. You're the one with the broken leg, not me."

Scott watched him for a moment before grinning. "John already got it out of you, didn't he?"

"Before you even left the infirmary," Virgil confirmed. His amused look turned into a proper smile. "You two are freaky, sometimes."

"You're just as bad, kid. If it were Gordon or even Alan who had been out there with me, do you honestly think you would have left them alone?"

"Yes! I'm not as bad as you."

"Nope, you're worse."

Virgil shoved him lightly on the shoulder and Scott pretended to overbalance.

"Hey! Be nice, I'm injured."

"Why does that mean I have to be nice?"

"Because I said so," Scott retorted smugly. Virgil stood up and Scott frowned. It was unlike Virgil to back down that easily. Then his brother took a step towards the crutches and Scott's eyes widened in alarm.

"Don't you dare," he warned. Virgil's hand hovered over them as he threatened to topple them again. Scott didn't realise he was edging forward, his hand gripping the edge of the lounger as he tried to work out whether he could move in time or not. But then Virgil backed down.

"I'd only have to come back and help you." He muttered, stepping away from the lounger and taking a few steps towards the house. Scott grabbed the crutches, making sure he kept them out of Virgil's reach and securely in his own hands.

"I came out to tell you dinner is almost ready."

He disappeared and Scott began the slow task of getting to his feet (well, foot) and making his way back to the house. He knew by the end of his six weeks, movement would be a lot easier. But for now, it was a painstakingly slow process and he hoped his brothers had left him some food.

He reached the house just as his grandmother made to call the others. Scott smiled, knowing Virgil had come to tell him early in order to make sure he was in by the time the others got there. As he heard Gordon racing towards the table and then the sound of John and their father talking quietly as they approached, Scott slipped into his seat and pretended to look bored.

"How slow can you be?" he moaned as Gordon skidded into the room. "Been waiting ages."

Gordon pulled a face as he too took his place at the table and Scott laughed. Just because he couldn't do some of the things he was used to didn't mean he couldn't still have the last laugh. In the end, it was Virgil who was the last one to the table, muttering something about having to go from one end of the house to the other. Scott shot him a grateful smile when the others weren't looking, however, and Virgil nodded in response.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you again for the lovely comments and support._

* * *

Scott stirred, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. It took him a moment to work out where he was. Then it came flooding back. He was in the lounge. He had been talking to his father about something, stretched out comfortably with his leg propped up. Apparently he had been too comfortable – Scott hoped they had at least finished the conversation before he had fallen asleep.

Shifting, Scott's heart skipped a beat when he suddenly realised that Gordon was right next to him. He jolted, pushing himself back on the sofa. Gordon also jumped, then shot Scott a grin that instantly made the older brother suspicious.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously. Gordon raised his eyebrows and shrugged innocently.

"Nothing."

Scott didn't believe him, especially as Gordon was attempting to hide something behind his back. Scott shifted in order to grab hold of his brother, but his gaze caught on his cast and he felt his jaw drop.

"Gordon!" Scott shouted, staring at the crude illustration his brother had been sketching up the side of his leg. While Scott appreciated Virgil's artwork, Gordon's left something to be desired to say the least. Considering it was up the front of his leg as well, Scott knew he was going to have to do something to disguise the image before his grandmother saw it. He fixed his glare on his little brother and Gordon scrambled back, making sure he was out of Scott's reach.

"It looked plain and boring," Gordon laughed. He brought his hands out from behind his back and Scott saw it was the pen he had been attempting to hide. Scott shook his head, reaching for his crutches.

"When I get my hands on you," he growled. The implied threats in his tone were enough for Gordon to take off, but his laughter bounced back and filled the room in his wake. Scott shook his head, finally managing to draw the crutches closer to him. He left them resting against the sofa for a moment though, instead touching his watch.

"Virgil? You busy?"

" _Sorta…What's up?"_

"I need your help with something when you've got a moment. I need your artistic skills."

There was a pause and then Virgil sighed down the line. _"Gordon?"_

"Got it in one. Can you come up here?"

" _Not at the moment, Scott._ "

"Well, I can hardly come down there, can I?" The slight echo he was receiving back from his brother made Scott realise Virgil was down in the silos. He could have been up on Thunderbird Five for all the good it did Scott. He knew he wouldn't make it down there on his own.

" _I just need a bit of time. I can hardly leave Thunderbird Two like this. What if she's needed?"_

"I need you though."

" _You need me to draw something. I'm sorry, Scott. This is more important. Don't take it out on me that Gords made a fool of you."_

The line went dead as Virgil disconnected. Scott stared at his watch in surprise. He hadn't expected Virgil to snap at him. But then he sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He had hoped his brother would be able to come straight up. Scott wasn't used to not being able to pursue a course of action once the thought had registered in his head. He couldn't go down there but hadn't wanted to wait. Now he was thinking about it, he was sure Virgil had told him at breakfast that he was going down to do some maintenance.

Letting out a groan of annoyance, Scott reached for the crutches again. He had just made it to his feet when his father appeared. There was a mug of coffee clutched in his hand but he smiled when he saw his son.

"I didn't think you would still be in here."

"I'm not any longer," Scott muttered. "I'm going to shower."

He got halfway to the door before his father called him back. Jeff had set his mug on the table and was watching Scott pointedly.

"How are you going to do that?" he said quietly. He nodded to Scott's leg and the pilot huffed.

"Fine. I'm just going to sit here while everyone carries on around me."

"Scott."

The note in his father's voice was one Scott hadn't heard for a long time. It was a reprimand, a reproach without words to watch his tone. Scott shut his eyes, shaking his head softly as he lent against the wall.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm fed up of not being able to do anything. I can't even fall asleep without Gordon making a joke of it." He gestured down at the drawing on his leg and saw his father grimace before Jeff managed to cover it up.

"I'll have a word."

"Doesn't make it disappear though, does it?"

Scott felt tired as he leant against the wall. He knew the pain would ease as his leg healed, but he hated being uncomfortable the whole time. He was used to doing things. If he wasn't maintaining his 'bird, then he was on a rescue. If he wasn't doing that, then he was training. Or helping his father with the business. There was always something to do and Scott had never noticed how much he depended on being able to move.

"Come on." Scott jumped. His father had crossed the room and as Scott forced himself to focus, Jeff put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll help you get cleaned up."

"Dad…" Scott coloured just thinking about it. His father raised an eyebrow.

"Unless you have a better idea? I assure you, I have had plenty of practice. Gordon needed help as well, remember?"

Scott grimaced. He did remember…and he remembered how much Gordon hated having to depend on others to do something so simple. But he didn't see what choice he had. He could feel he hadn't washed properly since the rescue. Wiping a cloth over himself didn't have the same effect. He shifted the crutches into a better position and his dad held the door open for him.

"Just…" Scott trailed off, biting his lip. He glanced around, checking none of his brothers were in earshot. "Make sure the others don't find out?"

"Don't worry," his father said. "They won't hear a word about it."

Giving in, Scott limped down the corridor and entered the spare bedroom. It might have had his belongings in it, but it didn't feel like his. He perched despondently on the edge of the bed before pulling his shirt over his head. His father moved straight across to the bathroom, opening the door. Scott looked up as his dad smiled at him.

"It will be over before you know it," he promised.

Scott wasn't sure he believed him. But he was right. Twenty minutes later and Scott was lying back on his bed. He felt so much better now he was properly clean and he propped himself up on his elbows as he watched his father finish drying the floor.

"Hey, Dad?" Scott waited until his father had straightened up before smiling sheepishly. "Thanks."

Jeff put the towel in the laundry basket and moved across the room, clapping Scott on the shoulder.

"I know it's frustrating. I know it's hard. But try not to take it out on your brothers. It's not their fault any more than it is yours. Gordon might be a pain, but remember he knows better than anyone how this feels. He won't overstep the line."

Scott nodded, ashamed of how he had behaved. His father ruffled his hair, laughing openly as Scott tried to bat him away in protest and ended up crashing back down across the bed when he moved his hands.

"Oh that's not fair," Scott moaned from where he was sprawled. His father moved towards the door.

"I'm not sure fair comes into it, kiddo."

"I'm the Field Commander of International Rescue, Dad. I'm hardly a kid."

Jeff turned when he reached the doorway, a small smile playing across his lips.

"You'll always be my kid," he murmured. Scott resisted the urge to chuck his pillow across the room, knowing it would prove more trouble than it was worth in order to get it back again. But there was a smile on his face when the door shut behind his father and Scott rested back on his bed, breathing out a long breath.

His father was right. He might hate this. He might be frustrated as hell and feel like six weeks was stretching on for eternity. But it wasn't fair to take it out on the others, especially not Virgil. Scott vowed to make it up to his brother, but it would have to wait until later. Right now, he was sprawled in such a position he had no idea how to get off the bed again.

TBTBTB

Scott managed to control his temper over the next few days. Virgil had taken one look at Scott's cast and reached for his pen. Scott had seen the way his lips twitched though and knew his brother was trying not to laugh at Gordon's drawing attempts. It didn't take Virgil long to turn the somewhat curvy woman into a picture of Thunderbird Two. Scott had no idea how he did it, but he was glad. Even if meant his brother's craft now took up more space on his cast than his own thunderbird. He thanked Virgil sincerely though, making sure the younger man knew there was an apology in there as well. The grin Virgil had given him in response meant Scott knew his brother understood.

The frustration didn't get any easier; he _hated_ not being able to do anything. But John soon realised and dragged Scott into helping him run some system checks. Scott would have protested – it involved sitting there watching a screen flash numbers he didn't understand at him – but it beat doing nothing. At least he knew it was a job that needed to be done and meant he didn't feel so useless. Not to mention it gave him some time with John and Scott couldn't remember the last time it was the two of them.

"It's good to have you home, John," Scott said suddenly. He had cut straight through whatever John had been rambling on about and his brother looked at him, mouth open mid-word and a flush working its way up his neck. Scott shrugged. "I mean it. I know we talk when you're on Five, but it's not the same as you being, well, you know…here."

"I would say I'd stay but…" John grimaced. "Alan can handle only so much time up there before he starts getting bored. I don't dare leave my girl longer than I have to."

Scott grinned, shaking his head. He knew John didn't meant it; it was his way of dealing with Scott had said without moving the conversation into an uncomfortable area. They were Tracys: talking about their emotions wasn't going to happen any time soon. But before he could think of anything to say, the klaxon sounded. Scott jumped, grateful they were already in the lounge.

John moved swiftly across to their father's desk, establishing contact with Alan. His portrait was active by the time the rest of the family arrived and Scott had to admit to being impressed with the cool and professional way Alan delivered the details of the rescue. He listened intently, storing away any information that would potentially be of assistance when he got out there and had made it over to his lamps before his father cleared his throat softly.

"You're sitting this one out, son."

"I…" Scott flushed. He had become accustomed to the crutches and hadn't noticed he was using them to get to the secret entrance. He had moved automatically. He glanced around. His brothers were watching him, varying expressions of sympathy on their faces.

"I can help."

"And how are you going to get there?" Scott knew that tone. His father wasn't going to accept any arguments and Scott didn't blame him. This wasn't just about them; it was about the people they needed to help. He sighed, shuffling out of the way and looking at the floor. He didn't look up when his father instructed Gordon to take One while Virgil followed with Thunderbird Two and John. He didn't want the others to see the anxiety on his face. It wasn't that he didn't trust Gordon. It was more he wasn't used to not being out there with them, overseeing everything and checking it was safe for his family the best he could. But his father was right. There was no chance of him flying out there and even if he got there, he wouldn't be able to help once they had arrived.

Gordon gripped his arm gently as he past and Scott moved over in order to be out of the way.

"Good luck," he murmured. Gordon smiled tightly at him before he disappeared. Scott sighed and sat back down as Virgil and John also vanished. He stopped listening as Alan reported about a flooded dam and a raging river. He was instead thinking of all the things that could go wrong when he wasn't out there to help.

The house trembled slightly as both Thunderbird One and Two shot for the sky. Scott pointedly didn't turn to look out of the window. Thunderbird One would be a streak on the horizon by now. Gordon didn't get the chance to fly often; he would be making the most of it.

"I should be out there." He didn't realise he had spoken out loud until his father looked at him.

"Not this time, Scott. You can't help and you know it."

"It doesn't feel right," he murmured. He waved a hand around at the room. "I'm not used to sitting out on a rescue, Dad. John and Alan… they know how to handle being on the side-line. Even Gordon does. But Virg and I… we're always out there. Together. We know how each other think, how we react… They'll have to talk through every action they are going to take out there. Virgil's not used to that. We just do it."

"Have more faith in them that, Scott." His father's voice was soft, but firm. "You and Virgil are used to working together: true. But John and Gordon – they can handle it, Scott. You'll see."

Scott didn't say anything. He knew whatever might escape his mouth could be taken the wrong way. It wasn't that he didn't trust the others. It was he didn't trust himself. He couldn't sit here and listen to them putting themselves in danger when he wasn't doing the same. Ever since International Rescue had begun, Scott had been in the thick of things; saving lives and guiding his brothers through a rescue. He could count on one hand the amount of rescues he had missed.

"Scott. Scott, look at me." Once again, there was an order in his father's tone and Scott twisted to look at him. It was only then he realised his hands had bunched into tight fists, turning his knuckles white. There was understanding in the man's face though. Scott realised this feeling never went away. It was what his father put himself through every time they went on a rescue. Scott might have wanted to protect his brothers, but he knew his father had it worse. He wanted to protect all his children, regardless of how old they now were.

"I need to know you are going to hold it together here. Or you're going to have to leave."

Momentary panic shot through Scott. Would he really be forced to leave? He shook his head; of course he would. His father needed to be able to focus in order to offer advice that could potentially save lives. Just because he wasn't out there on a rescue didn't mean he wasn't involved with it. Scott took a deep breath and forced the tension to leave him. He held his father's gaze and nodded.

"I'm fine." As soon as he said it, he knew it was true. He hobbled over to his father's desk and nodded in gratitude as the man pulled him around a chair. But as Scott sat, he pulled himself together. He could still guide his brothers through the rescue even if he was on the island.

When Gordon made contact and said he had arrived, Scott wasted no time in advising him where to set up Mobile Control and which of the local authorities he should speak to while waiting. As Gordon confirmed he would follow Scott's lead, the pilot became aware his father was watching him with a smile on his face.

Scott ducked his head rather than holding his gaze. He wasn't proud of he had reacted. In fact, he was less than impressed with how he had been behaving since he had woken up and been told he would be out of action for six weeks. But when Gordon asked what to do and Scott could tell him the answer, he knew it didn't matter that he was stuck here. He was still a member of International Rescue. And he was still a big brother and a Tracy.

No matter what was thrown his way, he wasn't going to let that stop him. Both the world and his family needed him and Scott was going to be there for them. Just the way he had always been.

The fact he couldn't walk properly was only a minor detail.


	5. Chapter 5

_Final chapter now. Thank you to all of those who had reviewed and taken the time to read this, I really appreciate it and I'm glad you liked it._

 _Pyre, hope you like the final chapter!_

* * *

"Scott? You down here?"

"Yeah!" Scott shouted his answer, not being sure where Virgil was. Scott couldn't see anything, nor could he sit up to look around. He was lying flat on the floor, his head under Thunderbird One and his arms stretched above him as he tinkered with his 'bird. His leg was propped up to keep it from the floor as well as reminding him he couldn't use both feet in order to scramble out.

After six weeks of his leg being in a cast, he had grown used to moving around without putting pressure on it. The pain had all but gone now, only odd twinges reminding him the bone wasn't as strong. Scott knew it would only be a matter of days before Brains agreed he could have the cast removed.

Once movement became easier, Scott had managed to pass the time. In fact, he felt like he had learnt a lot. Not being used to sitting rescues out meant he had never appreciated what it was like for his father and brothers left behind. Now that he knew, he would make sure he kept in regular contact even if there was nothing to report; the wait was frustrating and worrying for those at home.

"What are you doing?"

Scott twisted his head and awkwardly made out Virgil's legs next to him. He grabbed hold of the underneath of the craft and used it to propel himself backwards. He was lying on a board with four small wheels attached to it, making movement far easier than if he had to wriggle out himself. He slid part of the way, then rammed into Virgil's foot by accident.

"You could give a guy a hand, you know?" Scott felt like he had uttered those words more over the past few weeks than he had over his entire lifetime. He could see his brother better now and Virgil pulled a face before offering down his hand.

"I give you a hand and you break my foot."

"Don't be so dramatic, Virg." Scott took the outstretched hand and Virgil placed his foot on the board to stop it from moving. In one swift movement, he hauled Scott to his feet. Scott reached out with one hand to grab a crutch and used it to prop himself upright. He swivelled on one foot until he could lean back against One. Virgil grinned.

"You couldn't do that six weeks ago."

"I couldn't do a lot of things six weeks ago. You okay?"

"Scan results are back," Virgil said. "The bone has knitted together well. Make it upstairs and you can be a free man again, Scotty."

Scott grinned. He leant over and grabbed the other crutch, fitting them into position with ease and beginning to move towards the exit. Movement in general was certainly a lot easier now he had mastered the art of using the crutches. It didn't escape his notice that Virgil slowed once he drew level though. Even knowing how to use the crutches still left him at a disadvantage when it came to speed.

"I suppose - looking on the bright side - this has taught me a lot," Scott said. The elevator stopped in front of them and Virgil stuck his arm over the door to make sure Scott got in first. Scott limped in, then turned to face Virgil as his brother slipped in. Virgil lifted his eyebrows.

"Like what?"

"I'm more patient now," Scott continued. He leant past his brother and jabbed the button. The doors clanged shut and the elevator whisked them back towards the house. Virgil coughed.

"Really?" The mirth was obvious in his voice but Scott nodded.

"I didn't react when Gordon stole my watch the other day."

"That wasn't patience, Scott." This time, no amount of coughing could hide the laughter in Virgil's voice. "That was laziness; you couldn't be bothered."

"What's the difference?" Scott was sure he should feel offended by the lack of faith his brother was showing. But they reached the house and Virgil was out of the elevator before Scott realised they had come to a stop.

"While you _patiently_ make your way to the infirmary, I'm going to go and set up."

"I can really have it off now?" Scott felt like a child at Christmas again. Virgil's laugh was fond this time and he nodded even as he walked away.

"Unless you would rather keep it on?"

Scott hurried after Virgil. He was impressed by the speed he managed to get up. He was even more impressed with how easily he managed to stop when Gordon suddenly appeared in front of him, not looking where he was going as he stepped out of the kitchen. Gordon turned and visibly jumped when he saw how close Scott was.

"Oh look, it's the cripple."

Scott rolled his eyes. After six weeks, the jokes had worn thin and Scott had stopped noticing them. Gordon toned it down when he realised he wasn't getting a reaction. Sometimes, Scott wondered how much of a child his brother still was. But this time, he grinned.

"Not for much longer."

Gordon smiled. There was no teasing or mockery to his grin, just genuine joy for his brother. He stepped to one side and Scott continued towards the infirmary. To his surprise, Gordon shadowed him down the corridor.

"You're coming too?"

"I'm not missing the hilarity of your leg when the cast comes off," Gordon said. Scott hadn't thought about that and he grimaced. Six weeks of not being used and starved of sunlight was going to have taken its toll on his leg. He fathomed if he had dealt with Gordon while it was broken, he could put up with the teasing for a little longer.

Somehow though, it came as no surprise to find his father and John also in the infirmary. Virgil shrugged innocently when Scott looked at him.

"I didn't tell them."

"I saw Brains with the X-Rays," John explained. "Bumped into Dad on the way over and here we are."

"Ready for your big moment, Scott?" Jeff asked. He crossed the room and put a hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott grinned even as he rolled his eyes.

"You're all acting like it's such a big deal."

"And like you haven't been counting down to this moment for the last week." Virgil said. John shook his head.

"More like the last six weeks."

"Fine, gang up on me!" Scott said, shaking his head with a laugh. "See if I care."

"Alright, boys." There was a mixture of fondness and exasperation in their father's tone. It sounded like he couldn't believe he was stopping them from arguing even now they were all grown men.

"And for once, it's nothing to do with me," Gordon quipped. He hoisted himself onto the nearest bed, his legs swinging freely. Scott watched the movement and swallowed. Despite their teasing, his brothers were right. He was looking forward to this. Although he could handle the pain and had grown used to moving around, he missed the freedom of being able to do what he wanted. It made him realise precisely what Gordon had gone through and caused a rush of respect for those who dealt with this on a daily basis without respite.

His father squeezed his shoulder, frowning quizzically as he sensed the shift in Scott's mood. Scott forced himself to smile and hobbled over to another bed. Balancing his crutches against the side, he hitched himself up and glanced at Virgil and John.

"Where's Brains?" he asked. He knew Brains would be the one to remove the cast. It felt like the rest of the island were present apart from the one person he needed.

"Powering up the saw," John said casually. Scott knew what his brother meant, but it was unnerving thinking of Brains with a saw – especially one that would then be near his leg. Virgil glanced over and grinned.

"Not scared, are you?"

"Course not," Scott scoffed. He settled into a more comfortable position, going as far to lace his fingers behind his head. But when Brains entered only a few moments afterwards, Scott was quick to sit back up again. His hands gripped the edge of the bed when he saw the cast saw in Brains' hand. He knew the man was steady when it came to using tools, but he wished Brains radiated a little more confidence.

Without a word, Brains moved into position and started the saw. Virgil came over, clapping Scott on the shoulder.

"Don't move," he instructed softly. "It will be off before you know it."

Scott nodded, offering his brother a terse smile. The saw came closer to his leg.

"Hey, Scott?"

Moving only his head, Scott looked to Gordon. "What?"

"I found the old rowing boat down by the caves the other day. I was thinking about fixing it up."

"That boat is a death trap," Scott muttered. He remembered the days they had spent out in it when they had first moved to the island before it had been left out in a storm and their father had forbidden them from using it again.

"Yeah, that's what Dad said."

"So why tell me?"

Gordon shrugged and Scott heard Virgil chuckle lightly next to him. Glancing back, Scott realised what Gordon had been doing and shook his head fondly.

"Thanks, Gords."

Gordon's words had been enough to distract him from the approaching saw. Brains connected with the cast and Scott was surprised by how little he could. It took literally moments for Brains to make the cut, moving the saw down his leg. Scott grinned when it fell neatly into two pieces and Brains stepped back. The infirmary was eerily silent when the saw stopped and Scot was convinced everyone sucked in a sharp breath.

Then he wriggled his toes.

Scott grinned at seeing the muscle in his leg move as he flexed his foot. Everyone crowded around the bed as he carefully bent his leg up.

"I've w-written a s-s-schedule," Brains stuttered. "It w-will build up your muscle and s-strength."

Scott nodded, not taking his eyes off his leg. It looked weak and pale in comparison to the other. Shifting his whole body, Scott swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He put his good foot down but when John offered him the crutches, he shook his head. He was determined to do this. Carefully, he eased himself upright until he was standing before putting his foot down. The floor was cold and his toes curled, not used to feeling anything other than the cast.

Scott shifted his weight until he was standing properly. A smile bloomed over his face and he took a tentative step forward. The fact he could do so without pain made him sigh in relief. It was over.

Then his leg gave way and he almost fell. Luckily, Virgil had seen it coming and had already moving into position. With one hand on Scott's chest, he ducked under Scott's arm in order to take his weight before easing him back to the bed. Scott felt for the mattress and sat down. To his surprise, he was trembling.

"It's going to take time, son," Jeff said. He moved forward until he could stand in front of Scott, as if to stop him from rising again should Scott attempt to. "Perhaps you should use the crutches for a while."

"But…"

"Just one?"

Scott's gaze found the floor and he nodded. John gripped his shoulder.

"It won't take long, Scott. You've made it six weeks. What is another few days while you get your strength back?"

"You're right." Scott cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Of course you're right."

He was being foolish. He knew it would take time for him to get his strength back. He stared down at his leg though. It might look weak, but Scott was grateful it was back in one piece again. John passed him the crutch again and this time, Scott took it.

Gordon jumped off the bed and grinned around at them.

"I can't sit here all day. I've got laps to swim."

He turned and headed towards the door. But before he left, he turned and caught Scott's eye, grinning. Scott nodded in response. He knew Gordon was pleased that the cast was off. None of them had liked it; it was too much of a stark reminder that things could go wrong.

"So have you," Virgil said. Scott glanced at him to find his brother reading the schedule that Brains had left on the side.

"I do?"

"Well, I'm assuming you want to start straight away?"

Scott didn't need telling twice. He eased himself up again, using the crutch to balance his weight. Virgil hovered nearby but didn't interfere. Scott was glad; he wanted to be able to do this himself. With his brothers on his heels, he headed out of the infirmary after Gordon.

The swimming tired him out far quicker than he thought it would. It made him realise quite how much work he was going to have to do if he wanted to be up and ready for rescues as quickly as possible. But it was a pleasant exhaustion, the like of which he hadn't felt since the accident. By the time the afternoon came to an end, Scott was ready for the day to be over.

The sun was just starting to set when Virgil and John found him out by the pool. Scott hadn't really thought about what he was doing when he had come back out after dinner. But it was peaceful here. He had both legs propped up on another chair and a beer in his hand. If he was going to be back on duty, he figured he should make the most of it while he could.

Virgil sat down beside him, reaching over and grabbing a bottle himself from where the rest of the pack was by Scott's chair. He tossed it to John before fetching one for himself.

"How does it feel?" John asked, snapping the top of his drink. Scott glanced down at his leg, knowing that was what John meant.

"Light." He said, flexing his toes again.

"You'll get used to it," Virgil murmured. He sat back in his chair, tilting his head back to look at the darkening sky. "Still can't believe it was only your leg you broke."

"Are you going to let me forget it?"

"Hell no," Virgil said. "You didn't answer me. I thought you were dead."

"Still here." Scott took a swig of his drink as both he and John mirrored Virgil's position and looked up at the sky. "When do you go back, John?"

"Next week," John said. His voice was soft and quiet, his drink dangling from his fingers. "Although I'll stay down if you aren't ready for duty yet."

"I will be," Scott said. It was a vow to himself as much as anyone else. The world needed him to be out there to help his brothers save people. But if he was honest, he needed to be out there saving the world. It was all he felt like he knew how to do these days, and being out of action had made him aware of how physical all of his hobbies were.

John glanced at him and Scott knew his thoughts were showing in his face because his brother didn't say anything.

"It's been weird out there without you," Virgil said quietly. "No offence, John."

"None taken."

"I guess I'm just not used to it. You've been out there with me since the first rescue-,"

"Which I still haven't forgotten," Scott grumbled, thinking about the overturned elevator cars.

"- and I'm used to you snapping orders in my ear."

Scott mock-glared at Virgil, who smirked back before returning his gaze to the sky.

"Look," John suddenly said. Both Scott and Virgil frowned and their brother pointed. Following John's finger, Scott smiled as the first star flickered into view. He raised his bottle towards it before taking a swig.

"So as from next week, everything returns to normal," he mused.

"I'm not sure about normal," Virgil said. "I thought you had developed a new sense of patience. So that means you can step back and let me take charge."

"Not on your life," Scott grumbled. John rolled his eyes as the two of them continued to bicker light-heartedly, but there was no heat in their voices. Scott couldn't remember the last time they had sat out like this and they were still talking late into the night. Despite the dropping temperature, Virgil dozed off. John made to move, but Scott held up a hand.

"I got this," he said. He knew what John had been about to do. He eased himself to his feet and stumbled towards the lounge. He deliberately left the crutch behind, taking it one careful step at a time. Thankfully, Virgil was still asleep when Scott finally got back with a blanket draped over one arm and he carefully put it over his sleeping brother. He sat down heavily, stretching out his leg and rubbing it. It was going to take more than one swim to get him back to fitness again.

Realising John was watching him, Scott looked at his brother. There was an amused smile playing over John's face and Scott frowned quizzically.

"What?"

"Now things are back to normal," he said. John gestured to where Virgil was sleeping and the fact it had been Scott who had fetched the blanket. It was hardly the first time Scott had made sure his younger siblings were warm enough and Scott grinned.

"A dodgy leg is hardly going to stop me."

"Good," John said seriously. "These last few weeks have been odd."

John settled back into a more comfortable position, one arm curled under his head as he watched the heavens. Scott followed suit, although he had never understood what he was looking at in the same way as John.

"Tell me about it."


End file.
